Mare
by Neleothesze
Summary: Shukaku's last ditch effort to escape the Gedo Mazo has dire consequences for his former container. 33 years in the past, a medic at Iwa's maternity ward makes a mistake. Instead of Han, a newly reincarnated Gaara becomes the Gobi's prison. However, nature isn't as kind this time, and Gaara's shinobi career is ruined before it could even begin.TimeTravel Fem!GaaraNagato
1. There's No Escape, Not in This Life

**Mare - Full Summary**:

Shukaku's last ditch effort to escape the Gedo Mazo has unexpected consequences for his former container. Two years before the end of the Second Shinobi World War, the med-nin in charge of the Iwa Hospital's maternity ward makes a mistake. Instead of Han, a newly reincarnated Gaara becomes the Gobi's prison.

A quiet, sickly child, his physical limitations preclude a shinobi career. Nevertheless, Iwa is pushing for a weapon, so young Ono Eiko/Gaara is sent to train with the Priestess of the Uma-Gami (Horse God) shrine. Gaara learns to harness the Gobi's purified essence in order to heal injuries and harm those with hostile intent.

Ten years later, with the Third Shinobi War growing fiercer the Tsuchikage moves to recall his jinchuuriki but an unexpected attack on the shrine gives Gaara the perfect excuse to slip away and avoid taking part in a war between his former home and his new one. He leaves leaves Tsuchi-no-Kuni and travels to the only constantly neutral country, the Land of Iron.

After the war's end, while travelling to the Land of Rivers, he offers his services as a skilled miko to a group of peace-loving Ame shinobi who want to bring back hope to their impoverished, war-ravaged country. What happens when, years later, he realizes that his longtime companions are the founding members of the Akatsuki?

* * *

_Story Type_: series of FlashFics (300-1000 words)

_Rating_: **M**, for violence and adult themes

**Table of Contents**:

**Chapters 1-10**: Arc I, Tsuchi

**Chapters 11-19**: Arc II, Tetsu

**Chapters 20-N**: Arc III, Ame

* * *

**Chapter 1**: There's No Escape, Not in This Life, Not in the Next (word count: 492)

With Madara's foul chains wrapped around his and his elder brothers' necks, Shukaku became truly afraid - the same mind-numbing fear he had experienced upon feeling the unknown enemies forcefully rip him from an unconscious Gaara, tearing into his essence with burning claws of malicious will.

This desperation and not any conscious thought prompted him to try and return to the only physical form his chakra recognized as 'home' - aside from the chakra construct that allowed his current physical manifestation - the young Kazekage's body. His failing will battled the Uchiha's, as both tore at the Tailed-Beast's chakra. Supported by the Gedo Mazo and his own visual prowess, Madara was slowly winning the tug of war.

So, in terror, Shukaku made a dangerous gamble. He began destroying his current physical construct and gathering the freed chakra for a reversal spell. In essence, the panicking Ichibi was trying to undo the effect of time on the separation between Gaara's soul and his own. In actuality, with all of his enormous chakra bent to the task, Shukaku installed his soul in Gaara's human body and sent Gaara's soul careening through time to the nearest body bonding to a Tailed-Beast's chakra, three-day old Ono Eiko, the mistaken jinchuuriki of Kokuo, the Gobi.

* * *

Harumi had been pulling her third eight-hour shift at the hospital when two harried nurses came bearing four sleeping children.

'Maeda-sensei wanted them moved out of the third ward. Something about someone spilling a couple of vials of our Cre12 near the ward. They sealed the area but all of the babies need to be checked for any signs of contact with the compound. Left one's Onishi Han. Right one's Ono Eiko. This one's Ishii Ren and that's Yamashita Kagome. Get them settled here, an ANBU will come for Onishi later.'

Harumi gestured towards the cots at the back of the room.

'Set them down there, I have to get a pick-me-up before dealing with them.' Without waiting for a reply, the doctor left for the coffee machine.

Ten minutes and two coffee cups later, the weary doctor returned to her duties. She carefully examined each child but after finishing her task, in the process of re-attaching their name tags, allowed herself to zone out.

* * *

For Gaara, reality rewrote itself in an instant of darkness, shapelessness and pain. In one minute he was on the battlefield, tired and bloody, making and discarding assault scenarios against Uchiha Madara; a moment later his body had stopped responding to his commands, his eyesight had gone blurry and there was the sense of an alien presence at the back of his mind, a sense that Gaara had long ago come to associate with Shukaku's demented, blood-thirsty being.

He hadn't even begun to transition from confusion to alarm when he heard a door being slammed somewhere nearby and a hysterical voice scream

'You idiot, stop the sealing, Bear picked up the wrong brat!'

* * *

**AN for those who read the last note from Tsubaki of the Pen**: This is what became of 'Eiko Does the Elemental Nations'. This story was supposed to be smut... but plot happened. And plot kept happening until it overcame the smut, beat it bloody and sent it crying in a corner. I have about 20-30 chapters' worth of plot (in FlashFic terms) begging to be written so instead of explicit-romance with some plot, it will be an adventure story with some explicit romance. I hope you will still enjoy it.


	2. All That You Know Will Fade

******Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Chapter 2**: All That You Know Will Fade (word count: 554)

Gaara's new senses were unreliable and his body was often either unresponsive or the responses were skewed and muted, as if his soul was only slowly taking control of the brain commanding the body. This sluggish merge between his soul's Yin nature and the infant's Yang was wrecking havoc on the body's developing chakra pathways and it took nearly a year for them to settle enough that meditation brought Gaara into his mindscape instead of an impromptu nap.

After weeks of analyzing the memories of his last moments in his old body (and how disturbing that sounded) the young Kazekage had deduced, from the familiar surge of Shukaku's chakra, that the Ichibi was to blame for having been thrust into an infant's body - and, with a resigned mental sigh, Gaara added yet another infraction to the long list of offenses the unruly tanuki had dealt him throughout the years.

The girl's body was hardly adequate and more flaws became apparent as the infant evolved into a toddler. Movement was harder than expected and Gaara had trouble, at times, making the body's weak muscles to work at all. He had caught no less than three colds in the past six months and he had been unable to dispel the strong sense of wrongness, the intimate knowledge that his body was not entirely his own. His caretakers were as disappointed with his pitiful progress as he was, though Gaara couldn't understand what difference an infant jinchuuriki - if that was indeed his status - could make at this point in the war.

By the time Gaara had re-learnt how to speak, he had also managed to venture into his own mind. In the middle of a colossal hall of packed sand and floating stones, before a monstrous cage, he met the Gobi.

That first meeting was strangely anticlimactic. For a long while the two regarded each-other in silence. Gaara was, by nature and circumstance, placid and reserved, his manner restrained. He had expected to meet Shukaku, but the presence of any of the Tailed Beasts was no great surprise.

Kokuo, unlike the Ichibi, was quiet and aloof. He had foreseen the first meeting with his new warden to be filled with either tears or threats, but beyond a slight curiosity at this deviation from norm, he had little interest in the workings of a human's mind. When the eerie toddler before him failed to speak, Kokuo simply settled back on the ground and closed his eyes. The human child would talk when ready to do so.

It was a clear dismissal but Gaara needed to resolve the issue of the Gobi's relative freedom and his own disappearance from the war front.

'Gobi, what has Shukaku done to us? How did you escape the Gedo Mazo?'

* * *

Between the two of them, Gaara and Kokuo settled onto a version of the truth - a highly improbable, extremely distressing version - that Gaara would have to confirm with his caretakers. To the best of the Gobi's knowledge, no more than thirty-five years had passed since the Wood-Style wielder had captured him and sold him to Iwa. He'd had only two previous wardens and taken part in only one war, the so called Second Shinobi World War. At the time of his unwilling transfer to his new prison... _that_ war had yet to end.


	3. Hope Is an Illusion

******Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Chapter 3**: Hope is an Illusion (word count: 632)

Jounin-sensei Ishidaira Ken was staring, shamefaced, at the carpet inside the Tsuchikage's office. His latest report had been no more promising than the previous twelve and the bottom line was clear: the container was a failure.

In terms of intelligence, perceptiveness and overall comprehension skills, five-year old Ono Eiko was a prodigy; her psychological profile was also eminently suitable for shinobi life: she was obedient and followed orders with promptness and efficiency.

In terms of physical prowess however, the child was a disaster. Born with a mild Congenital Muscular Dystrophy, there was only so much chakra could repair and compensate for. Her agility, accuracy, speed and resilience were barely above civilian level. Her case wasn't helped by an untreated exposure to Cre12 which had damaged her developing immune system. These two problems had drastically affected Ono's stamina and, in spite of Ishidaira's harsh training regimen and the Tailed-Beast's massive chakra reserves, the jinchuuriki couldn't handle ten-minutes of physical combat.

While Ishidaira was caught in his silent self-recriminations, the Tsuchikage and his three advisors were making alternate plans for their faulty weapon. Ono would be sent to the Uma-Gami shrine to train her chakra mastery with the priestesses. Hopefully, this unusual approach could somewhat redeem the disappointment that was their Gobi jinchuuriki.

* * *

Walking sedately between his guards, Gaara considered his circumstances.

Life in the past had been surprisingly good to him. His private sensei had been no harsher than Baki - if anything, the stern man knew how to adjust his training plans to Gaara's disgracefully weak body - and, unlike his previous childhood in Suna, most of Iwa's residents treated him with a coolness born out of disinterest instead of fear or scorn. He was a dangerous tool of the Tsuchikage, but only one of many.

He had good rapport with his two caretakers and a - dare he say it - _real friendship_ with the son of the owner of one of his favourite eateries and his caretakers' youngest daughter. He was also satisfied with his working relationship with the Tailed-Beast. Differently from his brother, Kokuo was disinclined to meddle in Gaara's affairs, even if the seal felt brittle and weak.

At present, he had been ordered to train under the tutelage of priestesses. Gaara wasn't surprised that the Tsuchikage was aware of the nature of his prisoner's chakra but still, it amused him to think of what all the ignorant would say of a 'demon' training to harness his chakra as holy power instead of malicious youki.

* * *

For his part, Kokuo was finding it a novel experience. The Uma-Gami shrine felt warm and welcoming and its priestesses radiated a pleasant, understated power that reminded him of his father.

The experience of sharing his chakra too had changed; Gaara, his young warden, didn't grasp greedily at it. He asked rather than demanded. He waited for Kokuo to share as much as he saw fit instead of tearing as much as the warden's will (and their odd seal) allowed and used the power to perform miracles _of healing_ instead of unimaginable carnage.

Under the priestesses' careful guidance, prisoner and warden had learnt to meditate in their shared mindscape and, though Kokuo was still caged - a situation abhorrent to his free spirit - there was a previously absent lightness to his essence, a growing tranquility that soothed any quiet hostility he might have felt towards the humans in his immediate vicinity.

But perhaps the most precious change of all was that, at times, under the head priestess' discreet supervision, Kokuo was allowed to stretch his senses and simply _feel_ the world as he had been unable to for decades. Gaara didn't often relinquish control, but for Kokuo, those rare moments of freedom were like divine raindrops after an endless drought.


	4. You Only Delay the Inevitable

******Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Chapter 4**: You Only Delay the Inevitable (word count: 708)

Ten short, uneventful years had passed since Gaara, in young Ono Eiko's body, had started his training as a miko. This period of peace felt like the calm before the storm and, with the advent of the Third Shinobi World War, Gaara was growing restless, his thoughts troubled and countenance silently distressed.

His dual loyalties and the knowledge of things to come were driving him to distraction.

The Tsuchikage had praised the priestesses' efforts in transforming Gaara into a competent healer and capable interrogator (due to his bred sensitivity to a target's emotions) and, in Iwagakure no Sato, Gaara had earned a reputation for quiet efficiency. Indeed, after healing the Earth Daimyo's second eldest child and earning Iwa a boon from Earth's ruler, Gaara appeared to have acquired the Tsuchikage's favour.

However, Iwa, Suna and Konoha were already embroiled in another war. Even though he wasn't a shinobi, as one of Iwa's two jinchuuriki, Gaara would at some point be sent to front lines, a deadly weapon poised to attack Suna or Konoha shinobi. He found the situation unacceptable.

With a sigh, Gaara left his quarters for a stroll, putting his faith in the bracing night air to help dispel his stifling thoughts.

His slow, purposeful steps took him past the shrine's reliquary. With his and Kokuo's senses attuned to the spiritual plane, he could almost hear the strange, wistful words of the shrine's guardians as they spoke to each other.

Of the fourteen guardian souls, seven in particular made his hair stand on end; the original seven priestesses sacrificed for the shrine's eternal protection. Only the current mikos' constant prayers and their chakra-infused sutras grounded these anguished spirits and focused them on their timeless task.

Outwardly impassive, Gaara continued his walk, closing his ears to the faint, disturbing whispers. 'Free us...' 'This unending pain…' 'I sense you, beast... Join us in damnation.'

* * *

In the pleasant warmth before sunset, Gaara drowsed upon the short, fragrant lawn that stretched from the forest border to the shrine's medicinal garden. A soft, almost unnoticeable smile curled his lips as he trailed his fingers through the soft blades of grass. A wandering ladybug aligned on his hand, preened her carapace and then resumed her flight.

The head priestess had left on an errand and, after completing his training regimen, Gaara had accepted his friend's invitation to spend some time in the gardens behind the shrine. Ever since he had moved out of the stone city, he had developed a fascination with the subtle aromas of the forest and, after carrying out his duties, he took every chance to laze away in the woods and meadows of the surrounding countryside.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves overhead and Gaara scrunched his nose when a gust of wind ruffled his hair. He considered batting away the stray locks that had fallen over his eyes but the temptation to simply bask in the lingering summer heat, unmoving, was far more irresistible than the slight discomfort of the tickling hairs.

At his side, Nori - the shrine's gardener and bee-keeper - slowly lifted a hand to the miko's face. For the past three years, Nori had been nursing a quiet fascination for the delicate brunette and now, with hesitant movements, he traced her cheek, brushing aside the errant locks and tucking them behind her ear.

At the first touch Gaara's eyes had flown open and he stared unblinking as Nori, emboldened by the lack of rejection, slowly caressed his cheeks, inwardly marveling at their softness. Gently, the gardener's calloused fingers stroked down his jaw and, with a quiet moan, Gaara tilted his head to allow him better access.

Soft lips hovered over his jawline and Nori's breath seemed to burn a trail across his skin. An unfamiliar heat curled in Gaara's stomach and he suddenly felt parched. With every soft kiss his breath quickened and, when he opened his mouth to wet his dry lips, Nori captured it in a quick, forceful kiss.

Just as he was about to rise, Gaara grabbed Nori's hand to stop his retreat, and, fixing the boy with an intense stare, ordered in a low, husky whisper.

'Do it again.'

* * *

**AN**: Gaara still sees himself as a man. When writing from his perspective, the pronouns will always be male. When writing from everyone else's perspective, they will be female. This is intentional. :)

Feedback is welcome.


	5. Your Arrogance Will Be Your Undoing

******Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**AN**: mst88, your reviews make me dedicate more time to this than I probably should, he-he. But thank you! :D

_**edited**_: 15 Feb 2014

**Chapter 5**: Your Arrogance Will Be Your Undoing (word count: 914)

The meeting was held in a dingy, run-down cabin that threatened to collapse at the first gust of wind. Motes of dust hovered in the still air and the floor planks creaked ominously as Gaara made his way to the far corner, from where he could keep an eye on the whole room and its occupants. Leaning against the wall with his arms across his chest, he placidly waited for the briefing to begin.

A team of chuunin had requested backup when their C-rank mission had taken a turn for the worse. Gaara had been dispatched by the Tsuchikage to support this group. The missive held only the barest amount of information: five years ago a religious cult settled in the little town of Ōhira. Ever since its inception the cultists had proved troublesome for the merchants and store owners, with their violent outbursts, disturbing sermons and unreasonable demands.

The head of the Merchants' Guild, a portly old man by the name of Hino, had taken to hiring teams of shinobi to help protect his goods against the cultists' occasional acts of vandalism. The cultists would come looking for trouble, would be overpowered by the shinobi on duty and would then slink away with their tails between their legs - a scenario which had been repeated with almost perfect regularity every month for the past four years.

From the mission leader's current report, the status quo had changed a month ago when a guard had murdered one of the vandals. Since then, the cultists had all but vanished from the town, which would have been a good thing if not for the bizarre barrier which now surrounded Elder Hino's home. The team's sealing expert had been unable to break the barrier and, with their client still inside the building, the team didn't dare employ more violent means.

As the Uma-Gami shrine was a good two days' travel closer to Ōhira than Iwa, the Tsuchikage had assigned Gaara the task of assisting the chuunin team. It still surprised the former Kazekage how close and almost cordial his relationship was with the arrogant, curmudgeonly old-man who had been the first to dismiss him as an untried youth at the Kage Summit.

* * *

Gaara looked at the dark mass with slight curiosity. Unlike normal barriers, this one's surface was roiling, with thick black streaks crawling across the semi-transparent walls, gathering in thick, writhing coils nearest to the team members' positions. To get a feel for its potency, he touched the barrier with the tip of his finger ...and almost recoiled.

The chakra infusing it was so foul that, from the barest touch, it had stirred Kokuo from his slumber and made his own stomach roil. Narrowing his eyes, Gaara went through a short series of hand signs, finally holding the Min seal as he called upon Kokuo's chakra and allowed it to fill his body. The power rose and swelled and finally, with a muffled grunt, Gaara thrust his hand into the barrier. From the point of impact it started to dissolve, the Tailed-Beast's powerful chakra eating away at the weaker essence.

Without wasting any time, the mission leader gestured to his team and the four shinobi disappeared into the building. Soon, a window flew outward, shattered by a stray barrage of stone bullets. Shouts and curses filled the air as Gaara followed after the Iwa nin with measured steps. He entered the main room just in time to see five of the cultists converge upon the injured team medic.

It was a smart strategy but, just as their weapons swung down, twelve thick stone spikes thrust through the floor, mercilessly impaling the assailants.

The leader turned towards the new attacker. Spinning his staff, he gathered his chakra. _Wind Style: Wind Blade_ he thought, smirking as he unleashed the slicing blades from such a close distance that they would be almost impossible to block. Nevertheless, by the time the elemental chakra was a foot away from Gaara, the miko had quickly erected a wall of earth. A hail of shuriken met the same fate and, angered, the high priest called upon his jaki(1), twisting and molding it into a shadowed spear which he threw with unerring precision at the outwardly impassive miko.

Gaara raised his arm to intercept the projectile and, with a twist of his wrist, grabbed the spear before it could complete its flight.

It had been an arrogant move, and he paid for it. His skin started burning, the two opposing powers fighting for supremacy. Pain traveled in sharp spikes down his arm but aside from a slight, almost imperceptible narrowing of his eyes, he held his composure and, tightening his grip, channeled Kokuo's power into the summoned weapon.

'Weak.' the miko taunted in a low, toneless whisper, distracting the leader from Gaara's own mistake.

Startled, the priest saw his powerful weapon quickly dissolve in the hand of a young priestess who appeared to be watching him dispassionately, glowing with a cloak of chakra. With a curse, he signaled his surviving underlings and jumped to the rafters. Using his staff to blast a hole in the roof, he made to leave but couldn't resist a parting shot.

'Better watch your back, girl. We won't be cowed by heathens and acolytes to some petty god. Next time we meet, it will be _your_ blood on the floor and _your_ soul sent to our Lord Jashin!'

(1)jaki (邪気) - evil energy

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Feedback is welcome. :)


	6. Heat

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Warning**: mild adult themes (this is where the story starts earning its **M** rating)

_**edited**_: 16 Feb 2014

**Chapter 6**: Heat (word count: 454)

Fingers ghosted over his shoulder and Gaara opened an eye to peer at his lover.

'Good morning, Eiko...' the boy whispered, tracing circles over Gaara's shoulder blades.

He knew that look in Nori's eyes and, with a wicked grin, he slowly turned to lay on his back, the comforter falling to the side.

'Nori...' Stretching languorously, Gaara pushed his chest deeper into the hands that had greedily and tightly gripped his breasts.

Rolling his thumbs over the miko's hardening peaks, Nori lowered his head to Gaara's neck and began trailing harsh kisses. 'You are in charge of the shrine for today... Mei-sama sent me to retrieve you. ' He nipped and sucked the creamy skin, his lips curling into a satisfied smile as he listened to Gaara's soft, muffled panting.

'...a good morning indeed then.' Gaara laughed, trailing his hands through Nori's short black locks. 'Have the others already left for town?'

With a grunt of agreement, Nori followed a slow downwards path. His hands sneaked to grasp onto Gaara's pert behind and his mouth latched onto the nipples, sucking the tortured peaks and lashing them with an unforgiving tongue.

Gaara's pants turned into long, drawn out moans and he arched against against the soft lips holding his breast captive. Hearing his lover's unrestrained pleasure sent a frisson down Nori's spine and a deep, rumbling groan reverberated against Gaara's breasts.

'Eiko..'

'Shh. Don't speak' Gaara ordered with a quiet, husky voice while his hands fisted into the boy's hair and urged him to continue his ministrations.

* * *

It had been quite a surprise to Gaara to see the effect a different body had on his desires. While his character had remained mostly unchanged - proving a certain superiority of nurture over nature - once he had reached puberty he had noticed that his eyes trailed to men more often than women.

He still appreciated the female physique but the sight of a peasant's tanned, muscular chest or a shinobi's tall, powerful frame would just as likely send a wave of heat coursing through his veins. His hormones had somehow latched onto some primal need to produce healthy offspring and thoroughly skewed his sexual preferences.

His reticence lasted until Nori's first tentative kiss. Unlike in the past, his life was now completely his own. There was no psychotic being to hold back with the entirety of his will - and, as long as his chakra was not demanded, Kokuo cared little for his warden's activities -, no responsibilities as a Kage or even as a shinobi. With this in mind, Gaara had quickly decided that he would live life to the fullest and experience all it had to offer.

* * *

**AN1**: I haven't used Gaara's new name very often, but hopefully people haven't forgotten it. It will be used even less once he leaves Tsuchi-no-Kuni. To cover his tracks he will revert to his original one.

**AN2**: As I previously mentioned, while Plot kept a gun against my head until it got written, Smut was the original purpose of this story, to help me exercise my 'explicit-romance muscle'. I hope my first attempt at an adult situation was acceptable. Plot will still probably dominate (stupid, gun-wielding Plot) but Smut will occasionally be making an appearance.

**AN3 - Random fact**: The age of consent in Europe varies from 13 to 16. In Canada, the age of consent is 16 and in the US it varies from 16 to 18. In the People's Republic of China it's 14, in Japan it's 13, as is in South Korea (provided the other partner isn't significantly older). This particular story is about fictional people in a fictional setting... But please feel free to mentally adjust the characters' ages to whatever you feel comfortable with. :)


	7. You Dare Look Upon the Host of Souls

******Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**AN: **Two updates in under 24 hours again? Why yes. The perks of writing flash-fics and having faithful reviewers. :D

**Chapter 7**: You Dare Look Upon the Host of Souls?! I Shall Devour You WHOLE! (word count: 832)

A summons had come from the Tsuchikage. The war had reached a stalemate and old man Ohnoki wanted his reserve weapon within easy reach. Gaara had decided to delay his departure by a fortnight, the greatest amount of time he could afford to give his lover and his former mentors - all become close, treasured friends.

In this one instance, he should have worried less about their sadness at the unexpected separation and more at having broken one of the most important shinobi guidelines: if your health allows it, don't let the enemy flee to regroup.

The Jashinists' reprisal, when it came, was harsh and swift. Under the faint light of the waning moon they crept like shades, covering the old wooden walls in explosive tags and dousing each of the shrine's rooms in oil. With silent steps they rushed through the sleeping quarters, nine dark robed cultists setting upon the slumbering priestesses like hateful wraiths.

Through the open windows the crescent's faltering rays hit their backs and created cruel shadows to mimic each vicious deed. Nine ritual daggers thrust into liver, heart or neck and nine more shadows mirrored the violent acts, illusory blood spraying from the figures to mingle with the very real essence splashed on the varnish. From room to room the Jashinists flitted like hungering nightmares and leading their procession was the usually dour head priest, his eyes lit with an inner flame and mouth stretched in a manic grin.

At last, they entered the shrine's reliquary where Gaara was meditating, Kokuo's purified chakra working to enforce the guardian spirits' will.

Before the miko could react, the head priest lashed out with a barrage of tainted sutras which stuck to the girl's clothes, sealing her chakra and rendering her immobile. Gaara's eyes flashed blue as he turned his focus to the intruders.

'I will tell you **once. LEAVE.**' he ordered, the Bijuu's angry voice trailing his own in an eerie echo.

The priest's answer was to backhand the kneeling girl, sending her paralyzed body into the altar and knocking down the holy offering, to the laughter of the other cultists.

To Gaara's enhanced awareness, the air gained a sudden heaviness and the guardians' faint, sorrowful whispers stilled, the spirits seemingly focused on the living with a sense of hungry expectancy.

Drunk on the feeling of imminent success, the followers began desecrating the shrine. Meanwhile, the head priest chanted strange prayers while placing Gaara's limp body in the center of a carefully drawn symbol.

Urns broke and scented sticks scattered. Unlike the ignorant cultists, Gaara could sense the shrine's protections unraveling with every foul act and the seven unstable guardians sinking deeper into their madness. His heart beat madly and Kokuo paced inside his cage in anger.

The shrine's prized relic was smashed against the wall and the final leash snapped. The spirits gleefully embraced their dark urges, morphing into ravenous gaki which set upon the unsuspecting Jashinists.

* * *

Crawling across the newly mangled corpses, four of the vengeful spirits latched onto Gaara's frozen body and, using their hands to find purchase in the miko's clothing, draped themselves over his body like heavy, bloodied vines.

'Such alluring chakra...' they'd whisper in his ear. '**Give us a taste!**' '_...just one taste._' He could hardly breathe, so heavy was the air with the sickly smell of freshly spilled blood.

They had huddled among the scattered remains. Crunches and slurps came from the bloody pile and the spirits sighed and moaned in delight. The other three spirits hadn't moved from the grizzly feast but frequently paused in their feeding frenzy to grace him with wild, gory grins.

'You and your demon…' '_So fresh… and yet so anguished, your souls…_' '**They call to us!**' the spirits crooned, running shadowy claws over Gaara's shoulders. 'Let us in…' 'Let us feast on your flesh.'

Molding their ghostly bodies to the miko's smaller frame, the deranged gaki gasped and groaned in excitement. They nipped at Gaara's skin and pierced his soft flesh with their sharp teeth, leaving rivulets of blood to run from the wounds and painting Gaara's white haori a vibrant, dangerous red. Wrestling with the paralyzing effect of the Jashinist's sutras, Gaara could only listen in dread as they whispered harshly '_Join us_' '...join us in undeath.'

Sensing his refusal by a sudden swell of power in the cloak of chakra that lashed and tore at their figures, the spirits hoarse voices took on a more menacing tone 'This young body, _you already share it with a demon…_' 'If you will not join us in undeath' '**...we will join you.**'

At their ominous decree Gaara renewed his struggles with a fervor born from desperation. He could feel the seals weakening but the crazed spirits would not be denied. As one, the seven gaki allowed their essence to dissipate and sink into the miko's skin.

Gaara's mouth opened in a terrible, soundless scream.


	8. There Has Only Ever Been, Ever Will Be

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Chapter 8**: There Has Only Ever Been, Only Ever Will Be... One (word count: 654)

It had gone quiet.

Outside the reliquary, the grounds burned. The roaring fires spread their embers across the dying autumn grass, igniting trails that criss-crossed the gardens like a hell spider's blazing web.

The room was filling with smoke and slowly, painfully, Gaara crawled towards the door, heedless of the shards of pottery ripping into his skin.

Inside his own mind it was pandemonium - a cacophony of voices wanting to be heard, a legion of souls battling for dominance. He _sensed_ them clearly... He heard their poisonous whispers inside his mind, as if they were his very own; urging him to let go, lulling him to sleep.

'Shut up...' He wanted to say, but his jaw was clenched too tightly against the pain.

'Warden, control yourself!' Kokuo screamed, but his voice was now just one of many - these filthy parasites infesting his body.

He _felt_ them acutely… They writhed under his skin like maggots. Smelling the smoke in the air, tasting the blood in his mouth... looking out through HIS eyes. Harshly, he clawed at his face, ready to gouge out the black orbs. He wouldn't be possessed, not ever again.

'Sh**ut UP...**' he rasped.

The brittle seal was being overpowered and his chakra pathways filled to overflow. They stretched and ripped and mended - the vicious circle starting anew as the Tailed-Beast's chakra continued to flood past the rapidly disintegrating seal.

Kokuo's purified essence was mending the damage as it occurred but no human body had been made to house this many souls. Both the Bijuu's and the human's spirits were being squeezed together while Gaara was busy fighting the interlopers bent on taking over his mind.

Like a shiver of sharks they circled his thoughts, flitting through his memories, tainting his reasoning and eroding his will. But, most frightening of all, he could see snippets of a life that was not his own, where he was a magnificent white stallion, rushing across the land, calling down the wrath of the heavens onto his pursuers. Shukaku had never shared anything of his own life - not even when he took over Gaara's young body - and something told the former Kazekage that the Gobi wasn't doing it willingly either.

'You… Kokuo, help me… drive them out.' he pleaded, before succumbing to the pain.

* * *

He awoke to silence.

The whispers were no more and his body felt whole, uninjured, refreshed even. He got to his feet, flinging his now white tresses over with shoulder - dismissing their altered color as a trivial side-effect of last night's terrifying experience. He stumbled down the steps leading to the inner courtyard and took in the absolute devastation.

The grounds were blackened, the trees jutting like somber skeletons from the scorched earth. The shrine was in ashes, its inhabitants murdered and cremated in the same terrible night. The groundskeeper's hut - _Nori's home_ - was a dark smear near the forest line and Gaara would have surrendered himself to the grief if not for the faint sense that there was still something wrong with his body.

'_Your_ body?' someone inquired, and Gaara recognised Kokuo's voice, taut with some unknown feeling.

'You left me deal with the leeches alone. Do you know what we had to sacrifice?' the Bijuu hissed, and Gaara was presented with the Gobi's memories of the event, recalling them with such accuracy as if they were his own.

'They are your own now... Gaara, **_our_** own. They chained me to your body, unable to assume my own, superior form even with the seal broken. ...Rather than die, I merged my essence with yours.'

After a pause, he added ruefully 'I _had_ hoped that my will would be stronger than yours… But it seems as if I underestimated my brother's former warden... From now until this weak flesh eventually decays, we are as one.'

* * *

Please leave some feedback on the way out! :)


	9. Sacrifices Are Always Required

******Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Chapter 9**: Sacrifices Are Always Required in the Name of Glorious Pursuits (word count: 622)

Due to the wartime the roads were heavily patrolled so, for the most, part they kept to the wilds. They lived off the land and for the first two weeks after the tragedy Gaara allowed Kokuo free reign while he struggled with the changes.

A decade of learning care for Mei, Chieko and Shiori as family, months of quiet, understated love for Nori… and his strongest ties had been suddenly, brutally and permanently severed. To cope with the pain, Gaara slowly locked his emotions away.

As a Kage, he had sent many of his own loyal men to their deaths when the missions had exceeded their parameters; as a Regimental Leader during the Fourth Shinobi War, his decisions had affected the lives of thousands. Even as a simple shinobi, death was a constant but vengeance _could_ and _would_ occasionally be sought, when one was aware of the identity of the murderers.

But his siblings had still been alive; Naruto, his dearest friend, and Matsuri, his loyal apprentice, had still been alive. None of the deaths had been personal. He had felt the burden of leadership but not the anguish of true loss.

In this case however, he had been robbed of his retribution when the Jashinists had fallen on the same night, victims of their own foolishness. There was no sense of justice, not when 'victory' tasted of ashes, failure and defeat.

And so he buried the tender feelings with memories of happier times and tried to adapt to the changes within himself.

The physical differences were minor: increased energy and vitality, white hair and blue eyes as opposed to the previous black. In comparison, the mental changes were more disturbing and harder to adjust to.

The first time they let a person die - out of disinterest and not carelessness or spite -, Gaara realised their altered nature. They had become less compassionate, more dismissive of human lives. Sharing a body and sensing each-other's thoughts had led to consonant goals and desires but a significant part of their individual personalities had also leaked across the bond.

It had become difficult to distinguish between the originator of one thought or another, to determine the initiator of a response. In truth, it was becoming increasingly hard to simply see themselves as separate beings but Gaara privately vowed to draw a line at labeling human lives as insignificant or worthless - he had done so once, in his younger years, when Shukaku still rasped lies in his ear, and would never do so again.

* * *

After the shrine's destruction they had decided not to heed Ohnoki's summons. Gaara had already felt conflicted about returning to Iwa in order to fight against Suna and Konoha shinobi. Kokuo took advantage of his indecision to persuade his former warden to act according to his wishes.

Slowly, they traveled east.

Kokuo saw the entire ordeal as a mixed blessing. On the one hand, he was bound to a human even tighter than before. On the other, he was closer to freedom than he had been in decades.

While his brothers still languished in their prisons, he roamed the wilds. He ran through straits and across mountain peaks, marveling at how impressive the heights appeared from the vantage point of a tiny mortal. He walked through forests and pastures, he bathed in cold mountain creeks and fed on the earth's bounty and throughout it all, he basked in the ability to perceive the world with his own senses.

* * *

**AN**: Yep, Kokuo's a bit selfish and uncaring. ...But after half a century of imprisonment, he's entitled to it. :)

**AN2**: I'm trying to stick to the one-update-every-day thing that I've got going, but I've just received a beta pass for ESO this weekend so the next couple of updates might be a bit late. On the plus side, if things go according to plan, the next chapter's going to have another lemon! :D


	10. Oblivion

******Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Warning: **adult themes

**AN**: **Please review for this one**, I need feedback on how the... romantic scenes... are received.

**Chapter 10**: Oblivion (word count: 1193)

Saka-machi was a ghost town.

Some decades prior, the mining village had been a thriving little place with a reputation for the quality of its marble and the exceptional sculptures crafted by the local artists. It was a point of pride that the local craftsmen had been commissioned to build the Daimyo's mansion and that their works adorned the halls of two great shinobi clans. Out of a thousand people, over a quarter had been wealthy merchants and artisans of the Traders' Guild while the rest had been well-paid - and reasonably content - miners.

But, as things are wont to pass, bandits saw the rich civilians as the perfect meal ticket and began carrying out frequent and brutal raids against the people of Saka. At first, the locals tried negotiating with the criminals but bribes lasted only until the bandits' ever-increasing greed smothered the memories of any and all written agreements. Next, the hapless commoners hired guards. These men were either killed or surrendered their morals to avarice and turned on their patrons. With the Second Shinobi War in progress, Iwa had had no warriors to spare for 'simple bodyguard duties'.

What had been built by generations of hard-working men was destroyed in less than a decade. All that remained of the once proud town were two streets of run-down houses and an inn that had seen better days.

* * *

Inside, in the darkest corner of the bar, Gaara was sipping from a large mug of watered-down spirits. His eyes stung from the smoke, his throat burned from the alcohol and he was nursing a terrible headache. Kokuo had been less than pleased by their return to civilization and had retreated to a corner of their mind, leaving Gaara to deal with the rabble of the tavern by himself. So far, he had been propositioned no less than seven times and had had to _gently_ let down a drunk and very insistent fellow, by breaking his nose.

He briefly considered retreating to the blessed solitude of his rented room but the mug of alcohol held the vague promise of a night free from the usual nightmares. As he lowered his head to take another sip of the foul brew, he sensed yet another person coming near. This time however, to his surprise, it was one of the young servants.

'Miko-sama' the boy said in a low, quavering voice 'the men'll be getting rowdy. Please consider retiring to your chambers.'

'When I paid for the lodgings, I was told that the room had yet to be cleaned. Has the task been completed?' Gaara asked, tilting his head minutely.

'I did it myself hours ago. It's all proper now. I'll show you now if you'd like.' the young man answered and, as he made no move to leave, Gaara found himself acquiescing to his covert demand. After all, five hours free of nightmares were hardly worth being harassed by lecherous men and the servant surely knew his fellows best.

* * *

After escorting the miko, Hiroya caught himself staring at the white-haired girl, hesitant to leave. He was full of bold questions about the miko trade, about Gaara's exotic coloring and her purpose in coming to Saka.

He shouldn't have lingered. The alcohol, the heartache, the young man's own subtle beauty - and perhaps a touch of lust, of daring or madness - had led Gaara to close the door before he could leave.

The other commoners had been disgusting, Gaara mused, but there was something different about this one. Perhaps he found his shyness endearing or perhaps his body was just the right touch of small and lithe, his features soft and fresh-faced.

'_So innocent_', Gaara thought with a pang. '_...even at his age and in a place such as this one. How long until he would grow into just another tired brute..._'

There was no mistaking the curiosity on Hiroya's face, the open fascination with the beautiful woman in front of him and, from such an innocent young man, Gaara found the admiration surprisingly flattering, arousing.

Wrapping his arms around Hiroya, Gaara leaned to whisper in his ear. 'Don't leave. Tonight, I would taste a different kind of oblivion.' The boy trembled as the hot breath brushed against his ear, but turned around in the miko's embrace, accepting the unspoken request.

In the candlelight, the shadows danced on Hiroya's face, highlighting his hesitation. Keeping their gazes locked, Gaara leaned in for a kiss. Up close, Hiroya could feel the aura of tightly restrained power brushing against his skin, forceful, compelling and pure. The allure wrapped around him like velvet chains, muting his uncertainty and, when a small tongue brushed against his lips, he daringly sent his own to dance with hers.

Trailing his hands upwards, Gaara dragged Hiroya's shirt as he went. As the young man's lightly flushed frame was revealed, Gaara bit his lip to stifle a moan. The boy was gorgeous. The slender, lightly muscled chest narrowed into a flat stomach and lean hips and a thin line of soft-looking hairs followed a downward path from his belly button, to hide in his linen breeches.

Dropping his greedy gaze, Gaara lowered his mouth to the boy's neck. He placed delicate, feather-light kisses on his collarbone and slow, trailing licks that elicited tiny shivers and small, delicious whimpers. Slowly, so as not to frighten him, questing fingers glided to the trousers' drawstrings, untying them and making the garment fall by the brown shirt on the floor.

A hand wrapped tightly around heated flesh and started pumping the shaft with hard, even strokes, smearing pre-cum across the rigid length. His fingers squeezed and pulled at the straining hardness and all the while Gaara guided Hiroya towards the bed. Meanwhile, with his other hand, Gaara deftly undid the knot of his own hakama and shook them off.

A light push and he had the slightly bewildered boy on his back, reeling from the loss of the miko's touch before his gaze was inescapably drawn to the the curly mound peeking from under the shifting haori. With a slow, languid movement Gaara straddled Hiroya and, holding his gaze, guided the young man in, inch by glorious inch.

Hiroya groaned, bucking his hips at the sudden scorching tightness, his hands grabbing onto the miko's hips with a bruising grip.

'Miko-sama' he moaned, thrusting as much as the submissive position allowed. Lazily, Gaara arched his back, bending to take him even deeper. With his eyes closed and mouth open lightly in silent bliss, he steadily began riding Hiroya, clenching his warmth on each slow, upwards move and relaxing it on every brutal downwards push.

The rhythm ebbed and flowed to Gaara's own desire, but the amazing friction against his cock and the incredible sight of the priestess lost to her own gratification had Hiroya breathing erratically, his eyes glazed in pleasure, desperately close to release.

In the course of time Gaara's breathing grew labored and he shuddered, his pulsating core holding Hiroya's shaft in a vice. 'Come.' he hissed between short, harsh gasps and Hiroya spilled himself with a deep cry.

* * *

**AN1**: Tch, I could have ended it sooner, to keep with the 300-1000 limit, but I think it would have been cruel to leave out the final 200 words ;) I really hope the pronouns weren't too confusing. I kept the same format: female pronouns when others talk or think about Gaara, male pronouns when he talks or thinks about himself. :-s

**AN2**: And here it was, the final chapter of Arc I. Arc II coming up, Tetsu!


	11. Your Impurity Must Be Cleansed

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Arc II, Chapter 11**: Your Impurity Must be Cleansed (word count: 695)

He'd entered the town like a mother duck, with a crude little wheelbarrow, a couple of urchins, a tired-looking girl and a crotchety old man in tow. Here and there villagers stopped to watch the odd procession, whispering to each-other and trading speculations about the foreigners' identities.

The little boys were bickering playfully, their cheerful behaviour in stark contrast to the ragged clothes and malnourished frames.

'I bet Gaara-sama killed twenty bears to make it.' Yasuo, the smaller of the two, bragged while admiring his fang necklace - a gift from Gaara.

'Yeah, right. Mine's made from top leather. She prolly made yours from scraps so you wouldn't feel bad cause she doesn't like you none.' came Motoki's expected answer, as the two went through the familiar routine for the nth time that day.

'Does too!'

'Does not!'

Blind to the eyebrows their antics were raising, Motoki and Yasuo pulled and shoved one another and mock fought with swords fashioned from a couple of thin sticks that Gaara and Hanae had deemed safe to use.

* * *

When the money had run dry, Kokuo had suggested hunting for food and sport.

They had climbed higher and deeper into the mountains, leaving the main roads once again and venturing into the forests that marked Tetsu-no-Kuni's southern border. At times their path met simple forest trails and they'd follow those for a while but, for the most part, they saw few signs of civilization.

In the end, the two month foray into the wilds had yielded a generous haul. They dragged with them four bear pelts, seven wolf furs and over two-dozen other hides and skins as they walked in search of a leatherworker.

The people were an unexpected and slightly bewildering addition. Kimura Toki had started following the former Kazekage after being rescued from his burning home. The hermit's cabin had caught fire in a thunderstorm and only Gaara's steady stream of water and earth jutsus had saved the old man's life. Gaara had found Hanae three weeks later, abandoned half-dead near a small creek. While receiving the miko's healing, she had only said that the bandits had found no more use for her. Something had broken within the girl and Gaara fully expected her to leave as soon as he gifted her with part of the money from the pelts. She was even now eying the townspeople with a wariness bordering on hate, her muscles tensed, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

Yasuo and Motoki were her polar opposites. Two weeks prior Gaara's path had crossed with that of a band of slavers. Looking back, Gaara mused that he would have probably killed the filth on principle.

'She's a sweet youn' thing.' one of the wretches had slurred.

'Yeah, she'll fetch a pretty penny, that one.' his comrade had added with a disgusting leer, raising a hand to touch Gaara's white locks.

A spike of chakra raised a sharp lance from the earth, severing the offending appendage. A dozen more silenced the men's vulgar protests and outraged cries.

When the forest quieted down, Gaara could hear muffled moans and grunts coming from two sacks in the back of the slavers' cart. A quick investigation yielded two small, wide-eyed children who, at the sight of a friendly-looking face, promptly started crying in relief.

In the aftermath, six year old Motoki had quickly bonded with old man Toki in spite of the hermit's taciturn nature. Similarly, four year old Yasuo, a curly haired, green eyed scamp whose favourite pastime was to climb trees and then jump onto the shoulders of unsuspecting people, had instantly taken a shine to Gaara. He trailed the miko like a shadow whenever he was not testing his mettle against the other, older boy.

Out of his four new companions, Gaara had the most trouble imagining Yasuo's eventual departure. As an orphan, he had no home to return to and, Gaara reflected, the obvious affection Yasuo bore him would probably stop him from settling down with Kimura-san like his friend Motoki probably would.

It seemed that his and Kokuo's solitary adventures had drawn to an end.


	12. Trust Is Your Weakness

******Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Arc II, Chapter 12**: Trust Is Your Weakness (word count: 394)

The pelts and animal skins had fetched a nice price, over 12.000 ryou. As expected, after sharing the profits with his chance followers - who accepted the charity with uniform haste and varying degrees of gratitude - the group parted ways.

Kimura-san did indeed take charge of little Motoki and the two decided to settle down a little ways from town; close enough for Motoki to join whatever form of schooling the small town had to offer, but far enough for Kimura's reclusive nature.

Hanae left for parts unknown and Gaara knew that asking about her destination would unlikely yield a straightforward answer.

Yasuo, as anticipated, had been impossible to get rid off. 'I don't wanna stay here. They'll sell me to the bad men again!' he'd wailed.

He'd cried and sniffled and crumpled his new clothes while the two elders patiently explained that the townspeople seemed friendly and harmless enough. 'I thought you liked me...' he'd whispered, snuffling a little and guilt-tripping Gaara in that wide-eyed, innocent way only children achieve.

Only his ever-growing respect for the miko had stopped Yasuo from latching onto her person like a monkey when he'd heard that he was being left behind. However, when it seemed as if all his pleas would fall on deaf ears, he loudly decreed 'You can't leave me, you need someone to carry your stuff. I'm coming with you!' before snatching up Gaara's pack and - unsuccessfully - trying to drag the rickety wheelbarrow.

* * *

He's far from the perfect apprentice, Gaara mused, as Yasuo was once again distracted by a bush-warbler's spirited singing.

Their foraging trip had turned into a spontaneous lecture on the edible plants in the region. When that failed to keep the little boy's attention, Gaara had switched to a lesson on the various poisons one could concoct with as little as a fistfull of pieris leaves, half a dozen nightshade berries and some yew needles.

Gaara had just finished listing the clinical signs that one's yew concoction had been ingested successfully when he noticed that Yasuo was no longer following behind. A quick search found his wayward apprentice asleep at the base of a tree, curled in a patch of clover like a kitten. He sighed and gently picked him up, cradling the little boy in his arms the rest of the way.

* * *

Please leave a review on your way out. :)


	13. You Are Blind I'll Force Your Eyes Open

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Arc II, Chapter 13**: You Are Blind. I Will Force Your Eyes Open... (word count: 828)

With a child in tow, the trips they took to the wilderness had grown sparse and most nights were spent in the comfort of warm beds at various roadside inns rather than sleeping bags set under the stars. Needless to say, Kokuo found the new arrangement difficult to accept.

Yasuo had learnt to avoid pestering the miko when her voice grew low and cold, when her eyes grew sharp and penetrating. She wasn't deliberately cruel or frightening on those occasions, but rather distant, perhaps dismissive and certainly protective of her bubble of solitude.

He'd sense her power push and thrust against his skin, bold and impatient, stretching like a cat after a long nap, raising the fine hairs on his arms. He'd learnt to hold off on whatever questions he had, to save his stories for later and merely offer her a cheerful wave and a small but earnest smile. In reply, Kokuo deigned to give the human child a tiny, approving nod before taking off at lightning speeds for parts unknown.

Gradually, the forest would hush, critters scurrying to their hiding places and small predators stilling in their hunt.

The miko herself would return like clockwork, hours later, just as he set about making the fire. She would bear fresh game and start some new lesson about surviving in the wilds that Yasuo would listen to with half an ear, content to simply bask in her presence.

* * *

Their money didn't last forever. It was a good thing then, that in the Land of Iron, work was never in short supply. While the samurai performed their warrior duties admirably, they were less suited for the sort of odd jobs shinobi regularly undertook.

To capitalize on the employment opportunities the occasional travellers provided, Shinkaya-mura's headsman had hung an impressive-looking notice board in front of the village hall on which the townspeople could post the various chores they needed done. Those looking to earn some extra money would simply pick and choose from the many varied tasks on offer.

Skimming through the mountain of notices, Gaara's eyes fell on an unusual request. Nokawa Akimasa needed help recovering a statuette which had been stolen by bandits.

He was reading the poster's address when he sensed someone behind him and a warm body leaned to whisper in his ear. 'Ya shouldn'a worry abou' ol' man Nokawa. Da' one's up ta' no good, little lady.'

Gaara peered at the offender over his shoulder. He was a young man, good looking - if a bit on the rough, rugged side - with wind-swept brown hair, thick lips currently stretched in a cocky grin and exotic pink eyes which narrowed in mirth at Gaara's obvious perusal, misinterpreting the former Kazekage's impassive study for interest.

'Like what ya see?' He asked with a smirk.

Gaara narrowed his eyes.

'Name's Kurumi. I've done a couple o' jobs for da' one. Da pay's good 'nough but da jobs 'emselves are weird ones and ol' man Nokawa's shifty as a drunk with itchy nethers, if ya get da meanin'.'

'Thank you for your insight.' Gaara replied with frosty politeness. 'I will, nevertheless, see for myself.'

With a perfunctory nod, he turned towards the local inn, where the innkeeper was sure to give him directions to the address he had read. He walked without looking back, trusting Yasuo to follow.

The little boy did so after giving the stranger a piece of advice.

'You should've been more polite to Gaara-sama. She could wipe the floor with you.' With that parting shot, he stuck out his tongue and rushed after the departing miko.

Kurumi watched them both go with a slight smile playing about his lips.

* * *

It seemed that the brown-haired man had been telling the truth. The quest was indeed an odd one, as was its quest giver.

The priceless relic, a jade figurine of a hooded man wielding a three-pronged scythe, had been stolen twice before. It had first been taken from Nokawa Akimasa's father over twenty years ago, to be used for unspecified - 'but very dangerous', Nokawa-san remarked - purposes. The second time, it had been taken from the old man's vault eight years ago, without disturbing the locks.

This time, it had been buried in Nokawa-san's orchard and, though Gaara couldn't sense any lingering trails of foreign chakra, the man was insistent that his prized possession had been removed through 'foul, arcane means' because the ground hadn't been disturbed when Nokawa had felt the figurine's change in ownership.

Suspiciously, Nokawa-san was more interested in proof of the bandit's demise and further proof that the thief hadn't 'used' the statuette, than in the relic's actual return, mumbling something about 'god knowing who it belongs to'.

Still, the case was intriguing, the pay was substantial and Gaara was interested in unraveling the mystery. They said their goodbyes and assured the client they would start their investigation at dawn.

* * *

Thank you for reading. :) Please leave a review before you leave.

**AN: **Two chapters in under 24 hours... again? This time, I blame both my sweet reviewers and my son, who was kind enough to give me some spare time. He's already received his thanks in the shape of many hugs and kisses... you guys get the virtual equivalent. :D


	14. Trails

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Arc II, Chapter 14**: Trails (word count: 566)

The innkeeper referred Gaara to his wife, whom he admitted was one of the village's biggest snoops and an equally great gossip. If anyone knew anything about the theft, the jovial old man had said with a laugh, his wife was sure to know as well.

And indeed, Gaara found that the talkative lady was more than willing to spread her findings to anyone willing to listen. However, when it turned out that her second-hand information was insufficient for their purposes, she huffed and grumbled and dejectedly directed them to the butcher. Chiba-san, the village butcher, was the woman who claimed to have heard some strange noises coming from Nokawa's house the night of the theft.

* * *

As they searched through the small trade district for the butcher's place, the sweet aroma of baked fruit and cinnamon wafted from a sweets shop and Yasuo's walk slowed.

His hungry gaze flitted between the beautiful confections arrayed behind the glass counter where dozens of colorful cakes, sugar buns, glazed dumplings and bowls of hard candy sat in long rows. However, he supposed that the miko wouldn't stop for trifles during their very, very important quest and, with a mournful sigh, Yasuo turned away from the tempting display.

The marketplace was packed with noisy shoppers and the cheerful-looking shop had plenty of clients looking to treat themselves to something sweet. Though he was surrounded by a gaggle of other children, Yasuo's simple craving had been hard to miss. While they were indeed in the process of completing their task, it was no hardship for Gaara to stealthily stop and buy a couple of daifuku mochi.

The little boy was busy looking at his feet as he walked away when Gaara pushed the multicolored rice cakes into his small hand with a wink. The bright grin and short, heartfelt hug were all the thanks he needed and when, after a while, Yasuo slipped his hand into Gaara's own, the miko silently acknowledged this with a tightening of her fingers and a small nudge, urging the child to keep up.

* * *

They eventually found the elusive butcher's place wedged between a small pottery and a busy tanner's house, their storefront packed with treated skins and hides.

Inside the shop, the sturdy woman was hard at work, carving at a pig's flank with a heavy cleaver. Yasuo turned his head this way and that, gaping at the multitude of hanged meats.

After plenty of hemming and hawing, the redhead grudgingly admitted that it had actually been her youngest daughter who had supposedly seen some cloaked figure rushing from Nokawa Akimasa's home, while returning from a nighttime tryst.

'And may we speak to your daughter then, good lady?' Gaara tonelessly inquired, hiding any exasperation at the woman's dawdling.

'Oh no, that'd be quite impossible I'm afraid, miko-san' the woman tittered.

Gaara held his stare, patiently waiting for an explanation. The stocky woman's embarrassed giggles finally trailed off and she started wringing her apron nervously. 'Well, we couldn't let her shame the family like that, could we? To be the talk of the village' she cried, gesturing in frustration 'What a disgrace! We paid the boy to wed her. They live in Takemori, two villages away. Made me a grandmother already!' she wailed 'At my age!'

They muttered their thanks and left with a small paper bearing the girl's new address.

* * *

**AN**: Chapter 14 already. :-s Something tells me it's going to take more than 10 chapters to get through the Tetsu Arc.


	15. Don't Be Shy, Thousands Have Come Before

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Arc II, Chapter 15**: Don't Be Shy, Thousands Have Come Before You. You're Not Alone in Your Service. (word count: 768)

Perhaps in ages past, before the Land of Iron had fallen into an endless winter, Takemori had been - as its name implied - surrounded by a bamboo forest. Now though, it lay in the middle of a barren valley, forty tiny houses huddled around a frozen creek, tall hills and mountains surrounding it on all sides. Rather than guard the little village from outsiders, they seemed to loom inward.

Yasuo nestled closer into Gaara's side and thought that, with the setting sun, the view was especially creepy. The road they followed descended slowly into the valley. Where their own figures still caught the fading rays, the village was already covered in the mountains' shadows, cast in an early gloom.

'We're not staying long, right?' he asked in a tiny voice.

Gaara gave his shoulder a short squeeze. 'Our business shouldn't take long. And remember what I said Yasuo, nature creates the illusion of monsters..'

'..it's the people who make it true. I remember. It still looks creepy though.' Yasuo argued, nuzzling his face deeper into the bear fur cloak that Gaara had gifted him with.

He couldn't help but worry. Ever since they'd left Shinkaya, Gaara had taken off no less than five times, after depositing him on a tall branch, surrounded by wicked looking traps. He hadn't sensed the quiet-Gaara so he didn't think it was jitters. Instead, his guardian and mentor had seemed annoyed and, with a healthy dose of paranoia, Yasuo worried that maybe the statue thieves or other bad men were following in their footsteps.

It said a lot about the world that a four year old could have experienced such hardships so as to assume the presence of invisible enemies from the simple edginess of his parent figure. It said even more about the world that Yasuo was right in his assumptions, even though the people following them had been, so far, cunning enough to evade Gaara's grasp, flitting in and out of his sensory range like ill-intentioned mosquitoes.

* * *

They met with Kurokawa Noriko, the butcher's daughter, the very next day. She was a harried young woman; mother of infant twins and, by the looks of it, with a third child on the way. She and her husband - a lumberjack by profession - lived in one of the houses near the village center, a small, three room cottage that showed the couple to be a month's pay away from abject poverty. Whatever the girl's parents had paid their son-in-law, it must either have been a paltry sum or had already been used for the new family's bare necessities.

Noriko had little patience for the miko's questions, her answers clipped and unhelpful - though whether this was due to rudeness or a genuine lack of information was anyone's only useful hint she could give them was that, as the skulking man had moved, the moonlight had glinted off of his weapon, a strange two-headed spear with the metal heads' serrated edges curving inwards towards the bottom, like wilting blades of grass.

* * *

They walked up and down the mountain range for three weeks - always accompanied by that niggling feeling of being followed - asking in seven different villages about people bearing a weapon matching the spear's description. Nobody seemed to have ever seen anything like it.

At the end of a month, Gaara and his young apprentice slunk back to Shinkaya with nothing to show for their efforts.

They took a room at the inn and, after putting Yasuo to bed and thoroughly trapping the room, Gaara returned to the bar, intent on finding the innkeeper's chatty wife.

Instead, he was waylaid by a familiar pink-eyed man, his full lips still spread in that wide, obnoxious smirk.

'Da pretty little lady's back, eh? How'd it go with da job from old man Nokawa?'

He was so busy posing, he almost missed Gaara's slight grunt of reply.

'Aw, ya seem pretty down, little lady… told ya 'e'd be trouble. But Kurumi knows many things... Tell me what's botherin' ya and I'll be glad ta help.'

Thrusting a paper bearing a relatively skillful sketch of the spear in his face, Gaara asked 'Does it look familiar?'

Kurumi's eyes narrowed and he was suddenly serious. 'Where did ya get tha'?'

'Seen by a witness the night of the theft.'

Catching the bartender's eye, Kurumi signaled the man for a bottle and a couple of glasses and plunked down on a chair. 'Sit, sit…' he motioned 'we'll be chattin' for a while.'

* * *

**AN**: It seems my one-update-a-day thing may be put on hold for a week or two. Taking care of a sick kid while you're sick yourself really saps your energy. :( I think I should still manage a couple of updates a week, but it all depends on how soon we can get rid of this cold. :(


	16. Time Is Running Low, Strangers

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Arc II, Chapter 16**: Time Is Running Low, Strangers... (word count: 722)

He took a swig of the drink and leaned back, wiping a hand over his eyes.

'Met 'em twice, see. Firs' time, we'd been running a shipment when da bastards jumped us. Kokushin... the Stone Heart, sure as sure - brown cloaks, golden pins, all three of 'em with a serrated blade o' some kind.'

'The Stone Heart?' Gaara asked, trying to place the name. His intelligence officers had kept detailed records of various underground organizations, whether these operated within the confines of the Land of Wind or in foreign lands. This Stone Heart didn't ring any bells; either its members were incredibly efficient at avoiding detection - a worrying thought - or had been forcefully disbanded by the competition long before his time.

'As far as anyone knows they're an Assassin's Guild; missing nin who take no otha jobs than slittin' ya throat - or poisonin' ya drink, as da client prefers.' he rasped, muttering some choice oaths under his breath.

'Mighty cushy job dey got 'ere too, seein' as da samurai don' botha with 'em and there's no otha nin to draw 'em out, round 'em up and burn 'em on a pyre.' he spat, glaring hatefully at the table. 'So they 'ad us surrounded, see. Move up to da boss, hand 'im a scroll and then they vanish. Ma mates start fallin' roun' me, ma two cousins too - all of 'em faster than I could blink - 'til there's only me and da boss. So we ask why, see, and they say "_business_"' he recalled, his voice breaking on the final words.

'...They say "_business_" while wipin' ma cousins' blood off their blades. So we ask why we alive then and they say "_client's orders, leave two witnesses_" Boss an' me, we were da lucky ones.' he added with a rueful laugh.

'Secon' time's even betta', see. 'Cause 'is time I'm pulli' a job at some rich geezer's place - floors so clean I'd be 'fraid to wipe ma face on 'em so's not ta get 'em dirty. So I get into da ol' man's vault, and that's 'ard as 'ell, see. But I do it.' he stated, a hint of pride creeping into his voice.

'An' I'm in and I hear da guards' screamin' an' I say "_Shit!_" 'cause I think they caught me. But da screams die down, see, an' this man poofs into da vault next ta me, takes one look an' says "_Okoppe's run by da Stone Heart. Careful wha' business ya do._"' Kurumi recounts, mimicking the unknown shinobi's arrogant tones, but still mangling the words with his thick accent.

'So I pick up da stuff I came fo' and make ta leave. I don' run inta any mo' trouble, see. 'Cause da guards are all dead now. Forty or so of 'em. Prolly the geezer too, but I ain' stayin' ta check in case da law's already on da way.'

The quiet settles around the table, with only the clink of glasses being put down after each swallow as both Gaara and Kurumi finish their drinks in silence.

'So, if one were interested in finding these Stone Hearts, you'd suggest Okoppe as their probable base of operations.' Gaara finally asked.

'I'd suggest keepin' da fuck awa' from 'em, little lady.'

'Okoppe?' the former Kazekage stubbornly repeated.

'I ain' told ya ma story so ya'd still do da stupid thin' an' try wanderin' into a murderers' den!' Kurumi barked, banging a fist against the table.

'Okoppe then.' Gaara said, pursuing the subject with obstinate determination. 'Directions would be appreciated.' he added, staring the thief down. After a couple of minutes, Kurumi's jaw clenched and he looked away, hissing a string of curses.

'Tch. Yes, Okoppe.' Kurumi grunted 'Thirty miles east, take da right road at da crossroads past da riva'. An' if ya wanna win' up dead, I can tell ya who ta talk to... who maybe knows where the Stone Heart hide up there: White-Crow Jun. But it's a fool's job… Ya'll get yerself killed... and da little squirt too.'

'My apprentice will be kept safe. Tell me where I can find this White-Crow Jun and how much your assistance has cost me.'

* * *

Thank you for reading and please leave a review on your way out. :)


	17. In Her Loving Embrace

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**AN**: Hmm, over 1000 views in just the first 2 weeks. It made me so happy that I braved the sickness fatigue and wrote this in one go... we're wrapping things up in the Land of Iron. :D _Please review after you read!_ :)

**Arc II, Chapter 17**: In Her Loving Embrace (word count: 1393)

The entrance hadn't been easy to find, even with White-Crow Jun's directions. At the end of a cramped, garbage-filled alley, hidden behind a layered genjutsu and warded with half a dozen deadly traps, it had taken Gaara plenty of precious time to make it inside. _'...without hopefully alerting the inhabitants'_ he mentally amended.

He could sense over ten chakra signatures in the hideout and, if these were the same people who had so cleverly evaded his notice while he had been investigating the spear's origin, it would be more prudent to avoid a confrontation. Still, he was uneasy about the entire setup.

'_What would a group of killers for hire want with a mere statue?_' Gaara wondered. He prowled the base while keeping a tight grip on the_ Meisaigakure no Jutsu_ and using only the slightest amount of chakra to hover over the stone floor, muting the sound of his footsteps.

'_If it's indeed a mere statue._' he mused '_But if it were something more valuable, then what was it doing in the possession of a peasant from a no name village..._' He stopped that train of thought to back into the wall as a couple of cloaked figures walked past, talking and laughing about something or other.

The winding hallways were very narrow, some six feet across at their widest, and so far he'd had to flatten himself against the roughly hewn stone wall, squeezing his chakra painfully tight, every time one of the missing nin walked past.

If Kurumi's information had been correct, then the Stone Heart took nothing but assassination jobs. Stealing Nokawa Akimasa's heirloom in the dead of night - '_and leaving the owner alive to boot_' he silently added - fell within the purview of thieves and not a band of assassins.

Ten minutes later, in the back of a small candle-lit room, he found a probable answer. Sophisticated tapestries hung from every wall, depicting scenes of gods and goddesses at war. In the flickering light the mythical beings seemed to come alive, so intricate was the embroidery. Chariots raced across the heavens while clans of ancient shinobi faced each-other across mortal battlefields; among the clouds, yari crossed with magnificent swords to create a storm of color where the two blades met.

But, while all of the figures had been sewn with a painstaking amount of care, none more so than the Izanami no Mikoto, the goddess of the underworld. Her horrid features were depicted in loving detail, picturing the goddess' twisted visage snarling, grinning or smirking confidently, her form either twisted to strike down an impudent mortal or shrouded to lure a foolish human to Yomi. _'Hmmm... the goddess that vowed to kill a thousand souls every day, for the indignities she suffered.'_ Gaara recalled_ 'Yes, she would be a fitting patron for an Assassins' Guild.'_ The most magnificent tapestry hung behind a small altar on which Nokawa's statue had been seated. In this particular drapery, Izanami's rotting hands reached forward, fingers curled slightly, as if to bless the little jade figurine.

He felt something shift at the edge of sight but ignored it in favor of analysing the room for any traps. The split-second decision allowed the first chain to firmly wrap around his ankle, seemingly having sprung from the very shadows around his feet. His chakra began to drain and while he quickly cut the shackle, eight more latched onto his body, tightening around his torso and pulling at his arms until he was strung between them, immobilized.

Even infusing his muscles with chakra couldn't dislodge the troublesome tethers and Gaara stopped to think of another strategy. _'We will have to feed them, Kokuo...'_ he thought and felt the Bijuu's silent agreement, as well as his reprimand. _'You must stop being so careless, Gaara! This body we inhabit is much weaker than the one you remember…'_ Kokuo scolded him _'You must protect it more carefully.'_ Relaxing in the chains' hold, the miko started meditating and allowed the chakra to leak into the absorbent chains, even as both human and Bijuu silently mourned the loss.

The Stone Heart weren't taking any chances; the chains were very powerful and wherever they touched him the skin was red and raw, the flesh slightly swollen from forcefully channeling chakra outwards at an uncontrolled, much too fast rate.

Meanwhile, the air seemed to ripple and seven men formed before him, draped in the same heavy brown cloaks. They seemed to confer silently before one of them burst out.

'Told you we should have taken her out in the wilds.'

'The girl's not the issue.' a bearded man growled, pointing at Gaara and scowling at another brown-skinned man with curly white hair. 'If Masato had simply killed Nokawa...'

'Kami-sama would punish us for harming her priest!' the other interjected, 'I'm not losing Her gifts because you're too scared of intruders, Nobu.'

'Shut up, Masato, you coward! That filthy Nokawa isn't fit to be called a priest.' another brunette screeched 'Look at her, he's called another god's miko on us, for Yomi's sake!'

'Haru, she's breaking through the chains!'

* * *

'She should have been drained of chakra ten minutes ago...' Ohiko hissed, while batting away at the strangely resilient chakra strings, hesitant to cut them.

They had managed to stab their prisoner a good number of times before the chakra strings had surrounded her body; a large stomach wound was bleeding freely, as was the miko's right arm, where their serrated weapons had ripped off a good portion of flesh.

The first jutsu they had tried had also cut through one of the chains and, before anyone could redirect the remaining fetters, the miko's arm had snapped out, catching Suguru across the neck. With their arsenal limited to weapons, taijutsu and non-damaging ninjutsu, it had quickly become a battle for time, waiting for the strange miko to die from either chakra exhaustion or the heavily bleeding wounds while keeping themselves alive.

Getting close was difficult but staying away meant allowing the chains to be dissolved - and the priestess could not be allowed to come unbound; her strings though were making any approach nearly impossible.

As soon as their kunai sliced through one, the fallen piece would disintegrate, the unusually colored chakra dispersing to any of the nearby strands. Meanwhile, the cut string thickened and lengthened until it could cover the same distance as before, some ten feet away from the miko herself.

It had taken them a while to notice, caught up as they were in dispatching the nuisances and by the time Haru had yelled at them to stop, each string had grown and hardened to a thick purple coil.

'Well I don't see her dying on the floor, idiot!'

'We should have just done this from the beginning!' Ohiko yelled, pushing backwards to evade a coil's vicious swing. When cutting hadn't worked, they had tried restraining the writhing appendages with their own hands. Nobutoki, Haru and Masato's smouldering corpses were a grizzly testament to that strategy's failure. 'Watch my back, I'll hold her!'

The blonde-haired shinobi's fingers rapidly flicked through seals "_Shintenshin no Jutsu_". The miko stopped her struggles and hung limply, suspended only by the chakra draining chains. Unfortunately, the strands themselves were still slowly being covered by a layer of the miko's purple chakra.

'Are you in?' Michiya asked, bending to pick up Ohiko's fallen body. To the side, he saw a vicious tendril impale Shigeki through the chest.

Gaara slowly lifted his head, his skin sweaty and deathly pale from blood-loss. Ohiko's cocky grin was absent from the miko's face though and Michiya shakily raised his kunai. Instead, the white-haired woman's tired eyes were staring at the chains with faint curiosity and not a little bit of disdain.

By now, they had been completely engulfed in whatever foul thing was emanating from the priestess and, with every slight movement they creaked and shuddered as the chakra infused metal rusted and bent.

'Hmm?' the miko questioned with a slight, sardonic smile.

'...Ohiko, are you in?' he harshly ground out.

Strings latched onto Ohiko's unresponsive body and Michiya recklessly tore at them with his kunai, no longer caring if they grew any more powerful. While he focused on saving his comrade, an unnoticed coil wrapped around his middle, ripping through cloth. The Michiya screamed as his skin burnt and blackened. 'Ohiko...'

'**Not ...quite**.'

* * *

**AN**: Phew, that was close! Take more care of yourself, Gaara… hehe. By the way, I adapted Izanami-no-Mikoto's mythological persona to fit the story so for any historical inaccuracies in this and the following chapters, I claim artistic licence.

* * *

_Meisaigakure no Jutsu_ - Hiding with Camouflage Technique: a Chameleon Jutsu.

_Shintenshin no Jutsu_ - Mind Body Switch Technique: the Yamanaka technique for taking control of the target's body by overpowering the target's consciousness with one's own.


	18. We Find Our Own Path In This World

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Arc II, Chapter 18**: We Find Our Own Path In This World (word count: 518)

He was waiting for her at the inn, bright-eyed and smiling, bouncing with pent-up energy.

The little room behind the reception desk was crowded with people. The cook's two girls huddled in an armchair, the barkeep's children sat on three upturned buckets and, hanging by the door, a couple of young maids and even the inn's portly owner had stopped to listen to the four-year old's incredible tales featuring his mentor, the holy priestess Gaara.

They were simple folk from a land without shinobi and the stories of a miko casting all manner of powerful jutsu to defeat bandits or wild beasts - which in Yasuo's storytelling usually translated to "there was this great 'Raawr!' and a WHOLE mountain sprung OUT OF NOWHERE and it went crashing into the trees and the bad man screamed 'Aahh!'" - seemed incredible indeed.

'...And then she went like 'whoosh' with her arms and a monstrous wind burst around the fire ...the flames reached to the sky! I fell off my seat, it was so HUGE and scary! You should have seen the crows tumble and fly - feathers EVERYWHERE!' Yasuo was currently saying, gesturing wildly while miming the black birds' impromptu, assisted flight. 'They won't EVER look at a roasted rabbit the same way again, haha! And then she... ah!'

Noticing Gaara at the front desk, he quickly jumped down from the tall hardwood table he'd been perched on in lieu of a stage.

'Gaara-sama, you're back!' he cheerfully called out, giving his mentor a wide, toothy grin and pocketing the sticky candy cane he'd alternately nibbled on and used as a visual aid, sword or makeshift victim - as the story demanded.

The inn-keeper lightly shook his head at Yasuo's antics. '_...to have such an excitable kid as an apprentice, the woman must be a saint_' the man thought with a sigh. Waving the maids back to their tasks, he turned to the miko about whom he'd heard so much over the last couple of hours. The sight that greeted him was... unexpected.

Matted white hair topped an unhealthily pale face that currently held a pinched, flinty-eyed expression. The miko's garb was in tatters, the traditional white haori ripped and blood-splattered, barely hanging closed. The kindly man would have called for a doctor but, despite the rapidly drying blood drenching her clothes, no wounds were immediately visible. All this he took in at a glance and blanched.

'Thi..is is the one you'd bee..en, ahem, waiting for?' the man stuttered, trying to point at the miko without either looking in her direction or actually pointing - in case she took offense.

'Yep. Welcome back, Gaara-sama.' Yasuo said, ignoring the miko's attire with practiced ease. By his childish reasoning, if his mentor and guardian was here, any and all problems had _obviously_ been taken care of. 'Should I get the packs?'

'We will be extending our stay another night.' Gaara replied, heading for the stairs with a short, wry look in the flustered inn-keeper's direction. 'Yasuo, don't lag behind.'


	19. But What Now, Hero?

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Arc II, Chapter 19**: But What Now, Hero? (word count: 563)

It wasn't the right time to travel in the southern provinces of the Land of Iron, even though the vast majority of Tetsu-no-Kuni's inhabitants were hardy mountain-folk who had grown up in its harsh, stormy climes and glacial temperatures. Gaara however, wanted to waste no more time in these cold regions.

After depositing the troublesome jade statuette in Nokawa's anxious hands and receiving the paltry amount of money they had initially agreed upon - which didn't even begin to cover the time and effort Gaara had put into its retrieval - the former Kazekage was more than ready to wash his hands of the whole Tetsu-no-Kuni, with its inconvenient geography, inhospitable climate and pervasive aura of bad luck.

While the Land of Iron prided itself on its ability to maintain the peace and its neutral status without relying on a shinobi Hidden Village, it was certainly crawling with lowlives. In less than a year he'd stumbled upon a dozen bandit packs, four bands of smugglers, two slaver caravans and an Assassins' Guild. In contrast, the lone angry bear or pack of rabid wolves were an almost pleasant break from the human scum that jumped in his path with clockwork regularity.

A secondary motive for hastening their departure was Yasuo's wellbeing. He hadn't planned on becoming a parent (not ever, considering his and Kokuo's unusual merge) and being the child's guardian was a novel thing which often left him feeling out of his depth; for help, he could only draw upon his experience as a jounin sensei... and while Matsuri had turned out well enough, he sensed that it was unusual for a four year old civilian child to be as dismissive of death as Yasuo had become. To a large extent, he blamed Tetsu's lawlessness... to a lesser extent he blamed Kokuo's continued disdain of humans and his own somewhat stunted empathy. He hoped to find a moderately peaceful home or, barring that, a place which could teach Yasuo the value of cooperation and good will as living at the Uma-Gami shrine had taught him.

A couple of weeks ago, the news had spread that the Iwa and Konoha had ceased their hostilities, signaling the coming of the end of the Third Shinobi War. With Suna, Iwa and Konoha out of the conflict, the smaller countries would soon enough recall their own shinobi. Treaties would be drafted, border lines redrawn and for a while peace would settle around the Elemental Nations, giving the Hidden Villages time to lick their wounds, recoup their losses and revert to their favourite form of peacetime warfare, espionage.

Everyone was weary of assaulting strangers and sparking another conflict so it was the perfect time to travel to his chosen destination, the Land of Rivers. So he set a hard pace that left Yasuo completely exhausted by dinner time; admittedly, the speed alone was not that impressive, not even by civilian standards, but the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Many villages were snowbound and between the frequent hailstorms, the freezing winds and the heavy snowfall, only merchants and foreigners braved the main roads.

The forceful sleet had covered both their cloaked forms in a thick layer of wet snow but the bear pelts served their purpose well; bundled under the heavy skins and two layers of wool and cloth, they trudged towards Tetsu's borders, bound for sunnier climes.

* * *

**AN**: Woo-hoo! Ame next! (I should feel sorry that they're not going to make it to "sunnier climes" but... ...naw!)


	20. For Us There Is No Peace, No Rest

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**AN**: There are a *$#^-load of Naruto timeline variants on the internet and since the years between the First and Second WW and the Second and Third WW are mentioned by Kishimoto-sensei only when some important (and most often traumatising) event happens to one of the main characters, most people have a hard time agreeing on many points.

The timeline below is as accurate as I could make it. If there's a point you (personally) happen to disagree on, I'll call artistic licence and you (the reader) have my permission to mentally label this story -even more- AU than it already is. :)

**Timeline**:

-83 Present Day - Konoha is founded.

-67 PD - The Bijuu are distributed to the other main Hidden Villages.

-36 PD - **The Second Shinobi World War begins**.

-33 PD - Gaara's spirit is thrust into a newborn's body and becomes the jinchuuriki of the Gobi.

-32 PD - Ame withdraws from the war. Jiraiya stays behind in Ame to train Yahiko, Konan and Nagato (~age 6)

-31 PD - **The Second Shinobi World War ends**.

-28 PD - Gaara studies with a private tutor but his shinobi training is going nowhere. The Tsuchikage sends him to train under the priestesses of the Uma-Gami Shrine instead.

-21 PD - **The Third Shinobi World War begins**.

-18 PD - The Tsuchikage moves to recall Gaara to help with the war effort but the Uma-Gami Shrine is attacked and, in the aftermath, Gaara pretends to have died along with the other priestesses and leaves Tsuchi-no-Kuni (the Land of Earth). Unwilling to fight Suna or Konoha, he travels to the constantly neutral Tetsu-no-Kuni (the Land of Iron).

-17 PD - The Kanabi Bridge Mission: Kakashi leads his first mission as a jounin. Obito is trapped under the rubble. His life is saved by Madara.

-17 PD - The Kanabi Bridge Mission: Kakashi leads his first mission as a jounin. Obito is trapped under the rubble. His life is saved by Madara.

After acquiring a four year old sidekick in the Land of Iron and dealing with a small Assassin's Guild during a routine item retrieval quest, Gaara decides to bring Yasuo to a more hospitable place than the snow covered Land of Iron. They travel south, towards the Tani-no-Kuni (the Land of Rivers).

This takes them through Ame. In Ame people are suffering from the effects of the Third Shinobi World War. They decide to stay in Ame and help. Gaara is sixteen. Yahiko, Konan, Nagato ~21 years old.

**The Third Shinobi World War ends.**

-16 PD - Namikaze Minato is made Hokage. Kushina gives birth to Naruto. Obito sets the Kyuubi free.

0 PD -** The Fourth Shinobi World War begins**.

* * *

**Arc III, Chapter 20**: For Us There Is No Peace, No Rest (word count: 730)

Snowy mountain passes made way for lightly forested hills and large, open fields. Gradually, the weather lightened until, one day, Yasuo realised that he could see for miles and miles. Scattered villages dotted the mellow slopes, gathering around the many rivers, creeks and streams that criss-crossed the geography. A soft drizzle kept the weather from becoming uncomfortably hot and the faint breeze carried the sweet smell of summer.

Cutting through Ame meant saving weeks of travel and Gaara had deemed the risks minimal. He was confident that a genjutsu would carry them through with little trouble. His own chakra suppression technique was excellent and, unless they encountered some particularly paranoid, revenge-obsessed shinobi, the most that would traumatise Yasuo was the sight of war-ravaged lands. Perhaps they could even help the local populace while traversing the country.

* * *

...Though he hadn't expected this level of devastation in the famously isolationist country.

The first village they came across was a ghost town, devoid of life and picked clean by scavengers, with only scorch marks, ashes and charred timber to attest that somebody had once called this place a home… and suffered for it.

All that remained of a second village was a polluted well and three abandoned houses, barren and cold, their rounded shape making it seem as if they were bowing in shame amid the crumbled clay and rock where their fellow homes once stood.

The third village was a tiny hamlet nestled into the base of a hill, half-hidden behind a copse of trees. In terms of architecture it was identical to the previous settlements, with earthen, bowl-shaped dwellings, half of which had been smashed apart. By the gloomy, mournful look of the half-starved villagers that peeked out of their homes when Gaara approached by the main road, the owners of those broken houses were unlikely to have survived.

* * *

Raised voices could be heard from the other room.

'Mother, you can't keep doing this!' the young man was saying, slamming his fist on the table. 'Ten more were killed last week, a village razed in the northern ward... we can't trust anyone these days! We try so hard to stay under the radar and when I come home, I find these... strangers eating dinner at our table, joking and laughing!'

'Nonsense, dear. You and Kyūsuke-chan worry too much. Gaara-sama is an honorable miko and I'm very glad she accepted my invitation. She just healed granny Makoto and Nana's uncle Futoshi. Besides, little Yasuo is four. A child is supposed to laugh now and then... I remember when our own children were so carefree.'

'Tch. And why was the brat talking about settling down in _my_ room?'

'Why because they'll be staying with us for a while.' the old lady cheerfully replied.

'What?! Mother...'

'Oh, it will only be until the men finish fixing one of the other houses, dear.' she countered, waving off her son's protest.

'Is no one suspicious of these people. Where did they come from anyway?'

'Eiji, she's a wandering priestess! You don't question one of the few people whose kindness still comes free of charge.'

'Hmm... Well, why do they have to stay with us if everyone's so enamored of the miko?' the young man grumbled.

'Oh, how could I have raised such an uncharitable child?' the woman lamented 'The priestess is staying and that's final. Now go back there and introduce yourself properly. I won't have my son behaving like such a boor.'

The youth sighed and tiredly rubbed at his face. It was no use arguing with his mother when she was in one of her moods.

'Fine… do as you will. I'll be gone by morning anyway. The _patrols_ are getting close again… and more vicious than ever. We need to see if there are any supplies left in any of the other villages…'

The woman's smile dimmed and she walked to embrace her son.

'Please be careful, Eiji.' she whispered 'Please don't take any chances… It's not worth it.'

'Mother! We can't let Hanzō beat us into submission, how can you say that!'

'Hush hush, Eiji. I meant no slight to your efforts… But you're my boy… and I would gladly suffer a hundred Hanzōs than one dead son.'

'...We're going, mother.'

'I know.'

* * *

**AN**: Swift Foot Kyūsuke is a canon character. Eiji… is one of the many (previously) unnamed members of the original Akatsuki.


	21. We Are Driven by a Single Purpose

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**AN1**: Many thanks to everyone who faved and followed since the last update! I'm glad you guys like this… and please leave a review after reading. :) It helps me see what people enjoy most about the story.

**AN2**: The events of the following chapters happen sometime between the cessation of hostilities between the Great Nations and the actual signing of the peace treaties and all other agreements that formalize the end of the Third War.

**Arc III, Chapter 21**: We Are Driven by a Single Purpose (word count: 905)

It had been easy to fall back into old, half-forgotten habits; especially when the path to leadership had been swift, decisive ...and so subtle that, by the time they'd been in the village for two months, he'd somehow been installed as the unnamed hamlet's unofficial headman - without the willy villagers having once asked for his consent.

At first, Gaara had only helped the hamlet's dwellers as a healer, prolonging the lives of the elderly, strengthening the health of the young and the frail and occasionally patching up the three resident shinobi (when their recklessness left physical reminders).

But then a man's cart broke down and he helped settle the dispute between the two angry neighbors... and then between the three families who all claimed ownership of the same building tools... and soon the village folks' grievances were somehow brought before him, as an honorable stranger and impartial judge.

Similarly, when he'd overheard Kyūsuke , Tarō and Eiji talking about a planned incursion to steal a small shipment of weapons, he'd given his advice. And while "unasked for, unwanted and unneeded" - as Eiji and Kyūsuke had been quick to call out (to Tarō's protests) - it had helped the young men avoid an ambush and secure the crate of high quality kunai they were after - a rare luxury.

By the time a distressed father had run into the hamlet screaming about having lost his daughter, Gaara had been the one to calm the panicked civilian down, get all the details and organize the search parties. As with his former Kage duties, the villagers' abilities were considered, meager though they were... resources were allocated and the girl was found in under two days, at the bottom of a dried up well, hurt and severely dehydrated, but very much alive.

While the shinobi had their self-imposed crusade against Hanzō, Gaara had found a measure of comfort and familiarity in dealing with the everyday troubles of twenty three civilians.

* * *

'You have to help us, Gaara!' Eiji was saying, with Tarō whispering 'Gaara-san, sorry to interrupt your lesson...' in the background, pulling at his hot-headed friend's arm while peeking curiously at the hand-drawn schematics Gaara had laid out in front of little Yasuo.

'I hardly think I _have_ to do anything' came Gaara's quick, narrowed-eyed retort. 'Not when I told you specifically to avoid the central regions ...and likewise, to stop teaming up with those good for nothing nin from the eighth ward.'

'Tch. They're probably gone by now anyway, Eiji.' Kyūsuke joined in, looking anywhere but at his companions.

'Easy for you to say. You were certainly chummy with the cocky assholes - the leader especially - weren't you, Kyūsuke?' Eiji ground out, before leaving the room with a muttered curse.

Gaara looked at the other two enquiringly.

'Don't mind him, Gaara-san. He's frustrated that, not only was the village still inhabited, but we ran into another trio of shinobi.' Tarō apologised. 'One of the guys knocked him flat on his ass with a powerful wind jutsu… Well, they outclassed us all really.' he sheepishly added.

Gaara frowned. 'Loyalists?'

'...Not really.' Kyūsuke was quick to interrupt. 'Their leader said that their goals merely coincided with Hanzō's... He called himself a bodyguard, the protector of his village. Unlike Hanzō, he spoke of keeping the peace through negotiation rather than violence.'

It was clear that the stranger's words had made a powerful impression on the tattooed youth.

'Hmm, a noble if difficult goal.' Gaara offered. After a moment of silence, Tarō excused himself. Kyūsuke though, seemed troubled. Gaara settled into his chair and leaned back, watching as the boy paced the room, restlessly.

'...He said that people are more powerful when they work together towards a goal.'

'And he's right.' Gaara agreed with a tiny nod 'This concept is what led to the formation of communities. That is why we have cities, towns… and hidden villages. The strength of an individual will be dwarfed by the collective power of many... in all but the rarest cases. But what is really bothering you, Kyūsuke?'

After a while, Kyūsuke admitted, 'If they really work to protect the people of Ame, instead of wasting manpower on outsiders as Hanzō does… then I'm thinking of joining them.'

'You said they were trained shinobi?'

'Powerful too...'

'Hmm, they might keep you out of trouble.' Gaara lightly teased.

'Hey, hey!' Kyūsuke objected 'That's not what I meant. We're not that bad!'

Gaara smiled at the charmingly embarrassed boy, watching him sputter and protest that a couple of broken bones and some burns were nothing to be ashamed of. After some time, he grew serious.

'All jokes aside, working with seasoned fighters might be good for you three. Your were taking far too many chances with too little training.'

'Tch… I don't think Eiji would come with me. They really stepped on his pride...' Kyūsuke said, turning towards the door.

'Kyūsuke. You know as well as I do that Eiji is all bark and no bite… and that he sees you as the unofficial leader of your little group.' Gaara said with a pointed look. 'You would be doing him a great disservice to leave without giving him the option to follow.'

'I'll think about it.'


	22. Lack of Knowledge Is Just One Weakness

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Arc III, Chapter 22**: Lack of Knowledge Is Just One Weakness Among Many (word count: 919)

Summer in the Land of Rain was... surprisingly pleasant. Strong, dry winds blew northwards from Kaze-no-Kuni, bearing clouds of dust, stinging sand and a heavy, pervasive heat that mellowed Ame's normally chilly clime. From May till August the swamps, rivers and lakes were overrun by all manner of luxuriant plant life taking advantage of the nearly tropical climate to further their abundant growth.

By contrast, autumn in Ame was a thoroughly miserable affair. In early September the winds shifted, drawing the flow of air from northbound Tsuchi-no-Kuni. The light drizzle of spring and summer changed into vicious thunderstorms and pelting rain while the bitterly cold air laid a freezing, deathly rime on the growing crops.

With the onset of Autumn, sickness spread around the poorest of Ame's citizens and Gaara's own hamlet was almost completely bed-ridden.

One morning in late September, Kyūsuke entered Gaara's home with an appeal.

'Yahiko-sama would appreciate your help in the eastern region.'

Gaara was surprised. In the four months since Kyūsuke, Eiji and Tarō had joined the other shinobi's group, the young men had had nothing but praise for the company's unofficial leaders. One topic that often came up was the unknown Yahiko's ability to utilize his fellows so well, so as to solve all petitions and answer all the appeals that came from Ame's beleaguered civilians. However, it seemed as if the small organization had been caught unprepared by this year's harsh weather and the sudden rise in sick people.

Seeing the woman's raised brows, Kyūsuke hastened to explain.

'People have started dying in the East and North-Eastern wards and our medic can't handle all the requests for aid. ...We, that is, Eiji and I, might have mentioned that our village's acting headman was a miko.'

'Knowing Eiji, he would have, at some point, bragged about how the village leader had taken residence in _his_ room.' Gaara quipped with sardonic smile, folding her arms across the chest. '...Conveniently forgetting how he had wanted both Yasuo and I thrown out on our behinds for stealing his food, his bed and his mother's undivided attention.' Kyūsuke laughed but didn't deny the accusation. 'And now, Yahiko-san must have remembered his ramblings and asked if I was available.'

'Hmm. So can you spare a fortnight?' the brunette asked.

'Since my assistance has become necessary, I'll come straight away.'

* * *

They travelled between the tiny villages of the East and North-Eastern wards as a party of three. In spite of the serious nature of their task, Gaara found a pleasant companion in Otoki Haruka, the kindly medic she had been tasked with assisting. By the end of the third day of healing side by side, both miko and kunoichi had learnt to anticipate each other's actions, moving between the ailing patients with quiet efficiency.

On the third member of their little party, the former Kazekage reserved judgement. Nagato-san's gentle, subdued demeanor meshed well with Gaara's own reserved nature. He was perceptive and resourceful - good qualities for a team leader. However, a number of issues had put the miko on edge...

* * *

The week before, Yahiko-san had left the miko in a large, empty common room while he searched the building for her new companions.

The first to arrive - unescorted - was a tall, slender redhead whose eyes, upon seeing Gaara, had grown wide with wonder and who only belatedly tried to stifle his surprise.

The miko's own brows had drawn in a frown, features taut with wariness and mistrust. Long, straight locks covered half of the man's face but his one visible eye bore an ominously familiar dōjutsu. '_Is that… the Rinnegan?!_' Gaara silently questioned '_This is troubling. The Edo Tensei jinchuuriki… Uchiha Obito… Madara… from our reports and Naruto's stories the Akatsuki's former leader - Pain, was it - as well… all laying claim to that legendary dōjutsu. And now this young man here. Is he connected to any of those last three, our former - and future - enemies?_'

Meanwhile, Nagato, mistaking the priestess' frown for irritation at some perceived slight, had quickly moved to apologise.

'Forgive me, miko-san, for staring. But you have such an incredible amount of chakra… I have never seen any one person with such a great amount. You must have been truly blessed.'

'_Either the man is a consummate actor or so very open and guileless..._' Gaara mused. In the back of his mind, Kokuo offered his own opinion. '_At least it is proof that our merge has not needlessly damaged this fleshy vessel. If this man bearing father's eyes sees us for a simple - if gifted - human, our enemies will do so as well._'

'_Perhaps._' Gaara allowed, before acknowledging the handsome stranger's confession. '_What an ironic thing to say..._'

'Ah yes, I must have been _blessed_ by the spirits indeed, to have so much reiki.' the miko replied, trying to cover a wry smile. She coughed lightly and added in a serious tone. 'It will certainly be of use in the assignment I've been called to undertake. I was led to believe that it involved travelling to twenty-six villages over a period of only two weeks.'

'Just what I said!' a voice confirmed from doorway with a laugh. Yahiko-san had returned with a tiny brunette in tow. 'Ah, Nagato. You've already found Gaara-san. Good, good. Well, with all three here, I can give you the rest of the details.'

* * *

**AN**: **Thank you for reading**! If you've enjoyed this so far, please drop me a short review before you leave. :)


	23. Circles

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**Arc III, Chapter 23**: Circles (word count: 728)

The first person bursting into Gaara's room at five in the morning had been expected. Eiji, Gaara's menace of an acquaintance (and _perhaps_ friend), had made it a point to drop by the miko's home whenever his missions took him past the village; he barged in at all hours - "to keep you on your toes, Gaara" as the boy liked to argue "Kami knows you're rotting away in this place; waste of good talent...". The hail of twelve shuriken aimed at the door had been similarly expected. Gaara may have endured Eiji's antics, but it wouldn't do to encourage them.

Eiji dodged and deflected the projectiles, ducked under the flying tome following after... and was then completely drenched by a freezing water jutsu which Gaara, bushy haired, bleary eyed and still in his nightgown, maintained with vicious satisfaction.

The second person bursting into Gaara's room or, more accurately, lounging in his hallway was an unexpected addition and Gaara subtly tensed.

'Good morning, Nagato-san.' he offered with a tiny nod, warily watching the red-haired shinobi. 'Eiji, how many times have I told you that there's a time and place for everything?' '._..and inviting strangers - suspicious-looking ones in particular - in my home should happen somewhere between not-at-all and never._' he mentally added with a sigh. '_Though I suppose that, so far, Nagato-san has lived up to his good name... and none of the others have any reason to suspect him of no-good simply based on his dōjutsu..._'

'Forgive us for intruding, Gaara-san.' Nagato spoke up, sketching a slight bow. 'Eiji assured me that we would be on our way as soon as he completed "his ritual". I had no idea what it entailed.' he added, trying to contain a blush at seeing the miko walking about her room in only her sleeping attire. Demure as it was, it still offered a tantalizing hint of the priestess' slender form, slim legs and shapely breasts.

Oblivious to the other's train of thought, Gaara waved off his apology. 'There's nothing to forgive, Nagato-san. We can't expect too much of Eiji...'

'Hey!'

'...though I've been assured that, at some point in his life, he did know the rules of propriety.' Gaara said, ignoring the interruption and donning a linen robe over her nightgown and moving past them towards the kitchen. 'Since I am up however, please join me for breakfast. The food will help you keep a faster pace, to make up for this delay.'

* * *

As he prepared to join Tarō on his mission, which conveniently took them past the boy's home village - '_for the fifth time in half as many months_' -, Nagato realized that, at some point, he had developed a small fascination for the blue-eyed miko. Whether it was that first intriguing view of her immense chakra reserves, the short talks they had shared during their two-week mission or the priestess' lithe body and delicate features... the end result was that he felt like seeking out her company - a pity she did not feel the same.

He huffed softly and closed his eyes, lips twisted in a small, self-deprecating smile. The first woman towards which he'd felt any real attraction... and he felt silently rejected. Sometimes he wished he had Yahiko's confidence and outspoken personality; then, he supposed, they could have at least talked about the matter and seen if he could address whatever shortcomings Gaara had perceived.

He flinched, realizing that he'd been lost in thought, toying with the hilt of a kunai instead of properly preparing his supplies.

At least, she seemed as curious about him as he was about her - even if, he ruefully added, Gaara's curious glances were often laced with bewilderment and suspicion. Oh, she never tried to make him feel unwelcome. She was polite when speaking with him but, the more he visited her village in the company of one of her three friends, the more uncomfortable she became - which was completely counterproductive to getting to know one another.

'We're ready to leave, Nagato-sama.' Tarō said from the doorway. Nagato acknowledged the other man with a nod.

'...I'll be with you shortly.' He softly shook his head - as if to clear it of those confusing thoughts - and resumed his packing.

* * *

Thanks for reading and please drop me a review on your way out! :)


	24. Your Thoughts Intrigue Me

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.**

**AN**: To everyone who read, faved or followed this since the last update, welcome aboard! :) Special thanks to Elisa1020, mst88 and Silverambush for reviewing. I love hearing your (the reader's) thoughts about each update, even if it's just a metaphorical "kudos mate"... but especially when it's feedback on a new development. It motivates me. :)

**Arc III, Chapter 24:** Your Thoughts Intrigue Me (word count: 973)

Their library was small, three tiny, mismatched bookshelves shoved in a corner of the common room, filled haphazardly with all manner of books and scrolls the members had brought from their homes or salvaged during missions.

Nagato's hand hovered over them as he mused about his choices. It seemed as if all he could recall reading were petitions, mission reports and the odd jutsu scroll.

In his early childhood, his mother used to sing to him about their family's history. They were for the most part simple, happy songs about long-dead figures of a clan he could no longer recall. Then for a long time, while living on the streets with Yahiko and Konan, their only focus was survival. They had learnt about the world and human nature from harsh experiences rather than old, musty tomes. Jiraiya-sensei had taught them to read and shared some of his own knowledge... but since then, had he learnt anything new?

He recalled his latest conversation with Gaara. Their casual talk about Nagato's latest mission ( which had taken him to a small village nestled between three barren, rocky hills) had somehow evolved into a spirited debate on the merits and perils of using grade A explosive tags during a mountain ambush - an odd topic to discuss with a priestess, but one Gaara proved she could talk about, quite eloquently too. The miko preferred short, concise arguments over some long-winded speech but listening to thoughts and ideas was fascinating - and informative - nonetheless. And this wasn't the first or only instance where the young woman had pleasantly surprised him in her acquaintance with topics that went beyond her trade.

Although she wasn't a shinobi, from the understanding she showed of politics, military strategy and the rigors of wartime, he figured that she must have either lived in or visited a hidden village at some point in her life. It made him want to pick her brain her about a number of topics... and also motivated him to work on expanding his own knowledge. '_Hmmm, The Formation of Men's Attitudes… this sounds interesting.'_ he thought, picking up the narrow, ornate scroll.

* * *

A window was open to let in the breeze but still their lowered voices didn't carry very far. Discussing matters over tea - it could have very well been a formal and uncomfortable meeting (and many of their previous ones had been).

However, similarly to the desensitization process some Hidden Villages applied when training their young shinobi, repeated contact had let to familiarity with the handsome redhead, slowly but surely muting Gaara's anxiety to his presence.

In this instance, they lounged on pillows scattered around the short table, nibbling on some wagashi, speaking of nothing of consequence and often stopping to enjoy the comfortable silence.

While Gaara had slowly become aware of the admiring glances slipped his way, he too found himself watching the shinobi; and the more his suspicion abated, the more he noticed how attractive the older man was. He'd catch himself admiring Nagato's features and muse on how the high cheekbones and straight, narrow nose lent him an understated, aristocratic beauty.

'...I had been meaning to ask you.' Nagato was saying 'you speak so easily about so many cultures. Where exactly did you complete your miko training, Gaara?'

Taking a sip of the tea, Gaara considered his response. 'I traveled with an excellent healer by the name of Kokuo. He was an old and very knowledgeable person.' he replied without actually answering the question. He refused to reveal anything that could trace him back to his life as Ono Eiko, Iwa's jinchuuriki. However, that didn't mean that he couldn't share part of the truth to those he felt comfortable with. '_And you are, at that… old, at least._' he mentally added, to the Bijuu's silent amusement.

'_Still so cheeky... I am not old, Gaara. It's your human lives that are so pitifully short.' _Kokuo rejoined._ 'But it's good of you to acknowledge my wisdom, insight and greater experience._' With a mental snort, Gaara casually dismissed the Bijuu's arrogant remark as part of their playful, familiar banter.

'Over the course of my life,' '_or lives, as the case may be_' 'I've been to the Lands of Wind, Earth, Fire and Iron. Briefly, I even spent some time in the Land of Lightning… though I have very few fond memories of the place.' '_...seeing as though we were fighting a desperate, losing battle against a too powerful enemy.'_ he added silently, his brows drawing in an unconscious frown.

'And which place holds the fondest, if you don't mind me asking? I'd like to hear of it, if you'd share.' Nagato asked with a smile, steering the conversation away from the uncomfortable topic. Gaara accepted the subject change with a short look of relief and, hesitantly at first, began telling anecdotes about the people he had met in the Land of Wind, deftly avoiding mentioning things which linked him to a shinobi life.

It was pleasant, relaxing and Nagato couldn't help but laugh at some of the absurd situations his miko had gotten into. In turn, he recounted some of his own amusing adventures, holding her rapt attention as he spoke.

It was clear that, at some point, they would need to acknowledge this mutual attraction. As it happened just now, Gaara could feel a slow, thrilling heat curl in his stomach. The redhead's thin lips glistened as he absentmindedly wet them while talking in that calm, soft-spoken manner which Gaara had come to associate with the other shinobi.

Occasionally, when refilling Nagato's cup, their fingers would brush against one another - a short, questioning caress that Gaara hadn't yet decided how to answer and Nagato was still too shy to pursue.

* * *

**AN1:** An orphan and the son of a former Kage (who was a Kage himself)... different in so many ways. :)

**AN2:** The book title is taken straight from 'Propaganda: The Formation of Men's Attitudes' by Jaques Ellul; the original book deals with the sociological and psychological means and effects of propaganda. In my case, I was just interested in the part of the title suggesting psychological manipulation. Someone is coming soon and any knowledge is going to be useful when dealing with that one. ;) (three guesses who)


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